


Just a Twinge

by Freya_Kendra



Series: Just a.... [3]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freya_Kendra/pseuds/Freya_Kendra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim & Blair discuss what they need to do in order to keep us fan fic folks happy. (with references to Supernatural/Sam & Dean)</p><p>Notes: : This fic was inspired by 1.) my own knee twinge, which resulted from my own clumsy fall UP a set of stairs at work; and 2.) lunch with a fellow member of those "fan fic folks".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Twinge

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first in a series of silly fics written for a variety of fandoms to address just what it is fan fic folks want to read about...and how our favorite characters work to make sure we get what we want! ;-)

Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg were watching a Jags game in the loft when Blair decided to get up to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

"What was that?" Jim asked suddenly, his expression wrought with concern.

"What was what?"

"You winced."

"I did not wince."

"Yes you did. You winced. Like you were in pain."

Blair shook his head and continued on into the kitchen. "Not pain. A twinge."

"A twinge?"

"Yeah," Blair called back over his shoulder, his voice echoing strangely--since his head was in the refrigerator. "A twinge." He grabbed the beers and closed the door with his elbow.

"What kind of twinge?"

"Just my knee. No big deal." Blair handed Jim a beer, noticing that Jim's concern had not been lessened by the limited explanation.

"Since when did you have knee problems?" Jim prodded.

"I don't have knee problems. It was just a twinge." Blair plopped back down onto the couch next to his friend.

"If you don't have knee problems, what caused the twinge?"

"Oh, I don't know," Blair's replied with extreme sarcasm. "The bruise, maybe."

"How'd you bruise your knee?"

"That's what happens when you connect a knee with concrete at a fair rate of speed."

"You fell?"

"I fell."

"Where did you fall?"

"On the stairs at Hargrove Hall."

Jim's concern had piqued to the point of anger. "You fell down the stairs and you never told me?"

"I fell _up_ the stairs. And why should I tell you?"

"Because I'm your partner. That's why. You're supposed to tell me these things. Now who pushed you? What happened?"

"No one pushed me. I just fell."

"No one pushed you, but you fell up, not down?"

"That's right."

"So why'd you fall up the stairs."

"I don't know. I just got clumsy."

"Why?"

"Jim, I don't know. I got clumsy. It happens."

"Not to you. Not to us. There has to be a deeper reason."

"What? What deeper reason?"

"I don't know. Brain tumor, maybe. Or a mad psychic bent on hurting you."

"What?" Surprised, Blair started to laugh. "Where do you come up with these things?"

"I don't. _They_ do. It's what they want. It's why we're here."

"What _they_? What are you talking about, Jim?"

"The fans."

"Fans?"

"Yeah. The fans. Fan fic folks."

"Fan fic folks want me to have a brain tumor?"

Jim thought about that for a minute, and then shook his head. "Actually, I think more of them would prefer the angry psychic idea."

"Why?"

"Because then I could go after him. They love that -- you hurt, and me out for revenge."

"Why can't it be _you_ hurt, and _me_ out for revenge?"

"I do revenge better; that's why."

"I can do revenge."

"How? You don't like guns."

"Yeah. Well, there are other ways to take revenge. But even so, I could do guns. I could even go all Rambo if I needed to."

"You? Rambo?" Now it was Jim's turn to laugh in surprise. "You could not do Rambo, Sandburg."

"Why not?"

"You're just not the Rambo type. Harpo, maybe -- with all that hair. But never Rambo."

"Harpo? Then I guess that would make you Curly."

"Why not Groucho?"

"Cause Curly's the only one who doesn't have hair."

Jim nods. "Funny. Very funny, Harpo." He took a long swallow of beer.

"I could do Rambo."

"Hey, Harpo, you're not supposed to talk." Jim tried to focus on the game.

Blair twisted sideways and bent forward until his face was blocking Jim's view of the TV. "Forget Harpo. We're back on Rambo. Give me a machine gun and I'll show you."

"Give you a machine gun? Hell, no. That's just way too off character."

"Off character? How's that off character? Remember how psyched I got about that gun battle at the beginning of 'Love and Guns'?"

"Yeah, well the fan fic folks paid more attention to the fact that you got hurt."

Blair sat back, nodding thoughtfully. "They do like hurt, don't they?"

"Sure do. And you know we have to keep the fan fic folks happy. After all, they're the reason we're still around. If it weren't for them, we'd have ridden off into the sunset long ago."

"Now _that_ would be off character."

"Then let's not go there, dude."

Blair blinked in an exaggerated fashion, providing clear evidence of how startled he was. "Dude? Did you just say 'dude'?"

"Sure did, dude."

"Jim, man, you don't say 'dude.'"

"Why not?"

"Why not? It's not you, Jim. Dude is just not something you would say."

"But I just did. Twice."

"Yeah, and if you want to talk about off character, _that_ would fit right in."

"Why?"

"It's just not very sentinel-esque."

"Sentinel-esque? Is that even a word?"

"I don't know. Could be."

"Is it in Webster's?"

"I doubt it."

"Then it's not a word."

"I bet it would be if they knew about sentinels."

"But they don't, so it's not."

"Hey, if you can say 'dude,' I can say sentinel-esque."

"But sentinel-esque sounds -- off."

"How is that off character?"

"I didn't say off character. I just said it sounded off."

"So sentinel-esque sounds off, but dude doesn't?"

"The fans like 'dude.'"

"They do?"

"Sure. Sam and Dean say it all the time, and they're popular with a lot of our fans."

"So since Sam and Dean say 'dude,' you figure you should, too?"

"Why not?"

"And I guess if Sam and Dean jumped off a bridge, you would, too?" 

"Sure. Hurt/comfort is a particularly popular category in fan fic. I jump off the bridge. I get hurt." Jim tipped his nearly empty bottle toward Blair. "You provide the comfort."

"What happened to the revenge? I thought I was going to get the chance to do Rambo."

"You could try that, I suppose. The need for revenge is a great way to do angst."

"Angst?"

"Another popular category."

"Ah-hah. So if you jump off a bridge, who do I get to go all Rambo on, huh? Sam and Dean?"

"Hell, no. They're good guys. If they jumped off a bridge, it would have to be because some demon got to them."

"Now you want me to go after a demon?"

Jim regarded Blair with a hurtful, almost pleading gaze. "I'd do it for you."

Blair's own gaze softened. He took a long drink and then turned back to his roommate. "How'd we get on the subject of demons, anyway?"

"Your twinge. That's what started this whole thing."

"Right."

"So?"

"So _what_?"

"What's your story?"

"It was just a twinge, Jim."

"Not good enough. If you want to keep the fans happy, there has to be a story. There's got to be pain, drama and angst."

"My pain and your angst?"

Jim shrugged and nodded. "It was your twinge."

"Then you get to go Rambo and ultimately give me comfort?"

"It's what they like."

"The fan fic folks."

"You bet. And we've got to keep them happy if we don't want to end up riding off into the sunset."

Blair took another drink as he considered another angle. "But that could be an AU."

"AU?"

"Alternate universe. If you and I were riding off into the sunset, we could be playing out a western themed story in an alternate universe. Or maybe even a crossover with Mag 7." 

"Mag 7?"

"Magnificent 7. That's another one that's popular with a lot of our fans."

Jim smiled. "See. I knew you weren't as clueless as you were letting on."

"So we don't want to ride off into the sunset -- unless it's an AU and maybe even a crossover, and we get the chance to come back again--"

"Which means we've got to give the fans what they want."

"Pain, angst and drama."

"Yep." Jim clinked his beer bottle against Blair's, and then drained it.

"Which means I fell up the stairs because someone was after me--"

"But you're trying to hide that fact from me--"

"Because it's just a problem I'm having at the university, and I know I should be able to handle it on my own--"

"Which causes you to angst privately--"

"Which causes you to angst because you know something's wrong, but I won't tell you what it is--"

"Until your problem at school turns out to be connected somehow with a case I'm working on--"

"And now it's up to you to save my life--"

"And then, in the end, get you to understand why you should never hide your problems from me."

Blair smiled and nodded. "Yeah." He clinked his bottle against Jim's, and then drained it.

"So, let's try this again," Jim said. "How'd you hurt your knee?"

"I was clumsy."

"No, no, no." Jim jumped up from the couch, and then turned to face Blair, frustration evident in his features. "Do we have to go through all this again? Remember the fans, Chief."

"I know."

"The fans are what keep us going."

Blair jumped up to face his friend. "I know. Would you listen to me, man? I'm supposed to hide my problem from you, so the angst can build, right?"

"Right."

"That's exactly what I'm doing."

Jim blinked in an exaggerated fashion, clearly startled. "It is?"

"Yes, Jim. I'm telling you I was clumsy, but what really happened is that I was pushed."

"Ah, but you're hiding that from me to build the angst."

"Exactly."

"Okay, then. How 'bout another beer?"

"Sounds great, Jim. I think it would help me forget about all this pain in my knee." Blair grimaced as though in agony, and plopped back down onto the couch. He carefully drew his leg up onto the cushion.

Jim, expressing intense concern, gently fitted a pillow beneath Blair's knee. "You shouldn't have waited all day to do something about your knee, Sandburg."

"I had a lot on my mind, Jim. And besides, I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Well, obviously it was a big deal. You know you ought to get it x-rayed."

"Its fine, Jim. I just need to stay off of it for a while. Hey, how about that beer?"

"Yeah. Right." Jim studied his friend, his concern deepening. He could tell something was wrong, but how could he get Sandburg to confide in him?

 * * *

And so begins another one of those wonderful tales that continue to help all those wonderful fan fic folks keep our boys from riding off into the sunset.....

 

 


End file.
